CHAPTER II.
AT THE QUARANTINE STATION.
While these events were transpiring below, thesignal had come from the Prince to shortensail on the schooners, for the squadron was within halfa mile of the long mole extending to the southward ofthe tongue of land that forms the easterly side of theharbor of Barcelona. A signal for a pilot was exhibitedon each vessel of the fleet, but no pilot boatseemed to be in sight. As the bar could not be fardistant, it was not deemed prudent to advance any farther;and the steamer had stopped her engine.
“Signal on the steamer to heave to, Mr. Greenwood,”said Rolk, the fourth master, as he touched his cap tothe first lieutenant, who was the officer of the deck.
“I see it,” replied Greenwood. “Haul down thejib, and back the fore–topsail!”
The necessary orders were given in detail, and in afew moments the three vessels of the fleet were lyingalmost motionless on the sea. Greenwood took a glassfrom the beckets at the companion–way, and proceededto a make a survey of the situation ahead. But therewas nothing to be seen except the mole, and the highfortified hill of Monjuich on the mainland, across theharbor.
“Where are your pilots, Raimundo?” asked Scottof the second master; and both of them were off dutyat this time.
“You won’t see any pilots yet awhile,” replied theyoung Spaniard.
“Are they all asleep?”
“Do you think they will be weak enough to come onboard before the health officers have given their permissionfor the vessels to enter the harbor?” addedRaimundo. “If they did so they would be sent intoquarantine themselves.”
“They are prudent, as they ought to be,” addedScott. “I suppose you begin to feel at home aboutthis time; don’t you, Don Raimundo?”
“Not half so much at home as I do when I am fartheraway from Spain,” replied the second master, witha smile that seemed to be of a very doubtful character.
“Why, how is that?” asked Scott. “This is Spain,the home of your parents, and the land that gave youbirth.”
“That’s true; but, for all that, I would rather go anywherethan into Spain. In fact, I don’t think I shallgo on shore at all,” added Raimundo, and there was avery sad look on his handsome face.
“Why, what’s the matter, my Don?”
“I thought very seriously of asking Mr. Lowingtonto grant me leave of absence till the squadron reachesLisbon,” replied the second master. “I should havedone so if it had not been for losing my rank, andtaking the lowest place in the Tritonia.”
“I don’t understand you,” answered Scott, puzzledby the sudden change that had come over his friend;for, being in the same quarter watch, they had becomevery intimate and very much attached to each other.
“Of course you do not understand it; but when Ihave the chance I will tell you all about it, for I maywant you to help me before we get out of the waters ofSpain. But I wish you to know, above all things, thatI never did any thing wrong in Spain, whatever I mayhave done in New York.”
“Of course not, for I think you said you left yournative land when you were only ten years old.”
“That’s so. I was born in this very city of Barcelona;and I suppose I have an uncle there now;but I would not meet him for all the money in Spain,”said Raimundo, looking very sad, and even terrified.“But we will not say any thing more about it now.When I have a chance, I will tell you the whole story.I am certain of one thing, and that is, I shall not go onshore in Barcelona if I can help it. There is a boatcoming out from behind the mole.”
“An eight–oar barge; and the men in her pull asthough she were part of a funeral procession,” saidthe first lieutenant, examining the boat with the glass.“She has a yellow flag in her stern.”
“Then it is the health officers,” added Raimundo.
All hands in the squadron watched the approachingboat; for by this time the quarantine question had excitedno little interest, and it was now to be decided.The oarsmen pulled the man–of–war stroke; but thepause after they recovered their blades was so fearfullylong that the rowers seemed to be lying on their oarsabout half of the time. Certainly the progress of thebarge was very slow, and it was a long time before itreached the American Prince. Then it was careful notto come too near, lest any pestilence that might belurking in the ship should be communicated to thefunereal oarsmen or their officers. The boat took upits position abreast of the steamer’s gangway, andabout thirty feet distant from her.
A well–dressed gentleman then stood up in the stern–sheetsof the barge, and hailed the ship. Mr. Lowington,in full uniform, which he seldom wore, replied tothe hail in Spanish; and a long conference ensued.When the principal said that the squadron came fromGenoa, the health officer shook his head. Then hewanted to know all about the three vessels, and itappeared to be very difficult for him to comprehend thecharacter of the school. At last he was satisfied on allthese points, and understood that the academy wasa private enterprise, and not an institution connectedwith the United States Navy.
“Have you any sickness on board?” asked the healthofficer, when the nature of the craft was satisfactorilyexplained.
“We have two cases of measles in the steamer, butall are well in the other vessels,” replied Mr. Lowington.
“_Sarampion!_” exclaimed the Spanish officer, usingthe Spanish word for the measles.
At the same time he shrugged his shoulders likea Frenchman, and vented his incredulity in a laugh.
“_Viruelas!_” added the officer; and the word inEnglish meant smallpox, which was just the disease theSpaniards feared as coming from Genoa.
Mr. Lowington then called Dr. Winstock, the surgeon,who spoke Spanish fluently, and presented him to theincredulous health officer. A lengthy palaver betweenthe two medical men ensued. There appeared to besome sort of freemasonry, or at least a professionalsympathy, between them, for they seemed to get on verywell together. The cases of measles were very lightones, the two students having probably contracted thedisease in some interior town of Italy where they passedthe night at a hotel. They had been kept apart from theother students, and no others had taken the malady.
The health officer declared that he was satisfied forthe present with the explanation of the surgeon, andpolitely asked to see the ship’s papers, which the principalheld in his hand. The barge pulled up a littlenearer to the steamer; a long pole with a pair of springtongs affixed to the end of it was elevated to the gangway,between the jaws of which Mr. Lowington placedthe documents. They were carefully examined, andthen all hands were required to show themselves in therigging. This order included every person on board,not excepting the cooks, waiters, and coal–heavers. Ina few moments they were standing on the rail or perchedin the rigging, and the health officer and his assistantsproceeded to count them. The number was two shortof that indicated in the ship’s papers, for those whowere sick with the measles were not allowed to leavetheir room.
The health officer then intimated that he would paythe vessel a visit; and all hands were ordered to musterat their stations where they could be most convenientlyinspected. Every part of the vessel was then carefullyexamined, and the Spanish doctors minutely overhauledthe two cases of measles. They declared themselvesfully satisfied that there was neither yellow fever norsmallpox on board of the steamer. The other vesselsof the squadron were subjected to the same inspection.Mr. Lowington and Dr. Winstock attended the healthofficer in his visit to the Josephine and the Tritonia.
“You find our vessels in excellent health,” said Dr.Winstock, when the examination was completed.
“Very good; but we cannot get over the fact thatyou come from Genoa, where the smallpox is prevailingbadly. Vessels from that port are quarantined at Marseillesfor from three days to a fortnight; but I shallnot be hard with you, as you have a skilful surgeon onboard,” replied the health officer, touching his hat toDr. Winstock; “but my orders from the authorities areimperative that all vessels from infected or doubtfulports shall be fumigated before any person from themis allowed to land in
the city. We have had the yellowfever so severely all summer that we are very cautious.”
“Is it necessary to fumigate?” asked Dr. Winstock,with a smile.
“The authorities require it, and I am not at libertyto dispense with it,” answered the official. “But it willdetain you only a few hours. You will land the ship’scompany of each vessel, and they will be fumigated onshore. While they are absent our people will purifythe vessels.”
“Is there any yellow fever in the city now?” askedthe surgeon of the fleet.
“None at all. The frost has entirely killed it; butwe have many patients who are recovering from thedisease. The people who went away have all returned,and we call the city healthy.”
The quarantine grounds were pointed out to theprincipal; and the fleet was soon at anchor within acable’s length of the shore. Study and recitation weresuspended for the rest of the day. All the boats ofthe American Prince were manned; her fires werebanked; the entire ship’s company were transferred tothe shore; and the vessel was given up to the quarantineofficers, who boarded her and proceeded with theirwork. In a couple of hours the steamer and her crewwere disposed of; and then came the turn of theJosephine, for only one vessel could be treated at atime.
When all hands were mustered on board of theTritonia, the two delinquents in the brig were let outto undergo the inspection with the others. The decisionof the health officer requiring the vessels to befumigated, and the fact that the process would requirebut a few hours, were passed through each of theschooners as well as the steamer, and in a short timewere known to every student in the fleet. As usual theywere disposed to make fun of the situation, though itwas quite a sensation for the time. During the excitementBark Lingall improved the opportunity to conferwith Lon Gibbs and Ben Pardee. Lon was willing toundertake any thing that Bark suggested. Ben wasrather a prudent fellow, but soon consented to take partin the enterprise. Certainly neither of these worthieswould have assented if the proposition to join had beenmade by Bill Stout, in whom they had as little confidenceas Bark had manifested. The alliance hadhardly been agreed upon before the vice–principal happenedto see the four marines talking together, andordered Marline to recommit two of them to the brig.The boatswain locked them into their prison, and leftthem to their own reflections. The excitement on deckwas still unabated, and the cabins and steerage weredeserted even by the stewards.
“I think our time has come,” said Bill Stout, afterhe had satisfied himself that no one but the occupantsof the brig was in the steerage. “If we don’t strikeat once we shall lose our chance, for they say we aregoing up to the city to–night.”
“They will have to let us out to be fumigated withthe rest of the crew,” answered Bark Lingall. “Wehaven’t drawn lots yet, either.”
“Never mind the lot now: I will do the job myself,”replied Bill magnanimously. “I should rather like thefun of it.”
“All right, though I am willing to take my chances.I won’t back out of any thing.”
“You are true blue, Bark, when you get started; butI would rather do the thing than not.”
“Very well, I am willing; and when the scratchcomes I will back you up. But I do not see how youare going to manage it, Bill,” added Bark, looking abouthim in the brig.
“The vice has made an easy thing of it for us.While the fellows were all on deck, I went to my berthand got a little box of matches I bought in Genoawhen we were there. I have it in my pocket now.All I have to do is to take off this scuttle, and go downinto the hold. As we don’t know how soon the fellowswill be sent ashore, I think I had better be about itnow.”
Bill Stout put his fingers into the ring on the trap–door,and lifted it a little way.
“Hold on, Bill,” interposed Bark. “You are altogethertoo fast. When Marline comes down to let usout, where shall I say you are?”
“That’s so: I didn’t think of that,” added Bill, lookingrather foolish. “He will see the scuttle, and knowjust where I am.”
“And, when the blaze comes off, he will see just whostarted it,” continued Bark. “That won’t do anyhow.”
“But I don’t mean to give it up,” said Bill, scratchinghis head as he labored to devise a better plan.
The difficulty was discussed for some time, but thereseemed to be no way of meeting it. Bill was one ofthe crew of the second cutter, and he was sure to bemissed when the ship’s company were piped away. IfBark, who did not belong to any boat, took his oar,the boatswain, whose place was in the second cutterwhen all hands left the vessel, would notice the change.Bill was almost in despair, and insisted that no amountof brains could overcome the difficulty. The conspiratorwho was to “do the job” was certain to be missedwhen the ship’s company took to the boats. To bemissed was to proclaim who the incendiary was whenthe fire was investigated.
“We may as well give it up for the present, and waitfor a better time,” suggested Bark, who was as unableas his companion to solve the problem.
“No, I won’t,” replied Bill, taking a newspaper fromhis breast–pocket. “We may never have anotherchance; and I believe in striking while the iron ishot.”
“Don’t get us into a scrape for nothing. We can’tdo any thing now,” protested Bark.
“Now’s the day, and now’s the hour!” exclaimedBill, scowling like the villain of a melodrama.
“What are you going to do?” demanded Bark, alittle startled by the sudden energy of his fellow–conspirator.
“Hold on, and you shall see,” answered Bill, as heraised the trap–door over the scuttle.
“But stop, Bill! you were not to do any thing withoutmy consent.”
“All hands on deck! man the boats in fire order,”yelled the boatswain on deck, after he had blown theproper pipe.
Bill Stout paid no attention to the call or to theremonstrance of his companion. Raising the trap, hedescended to the hold by the ladder under the scuttle.Striking a match, he set fire to the newspaper in hishand, and then cast it into the heap of hay and sawdustthat lay near the foot of the ladder. Hastilythrowing the box–covers and cases on the pile, herushed up the steps into the brig, and closed the scuttle.He was intensely excited, and Bark was reallyterrified at what he considered the insane rashness ofhis associate in crime. But there was no time forfurther talk; for Marline appeared at this moment, andunlocked the door of the brig.
“Come, my hearties, you must go on shore for anhour to have the smallpox smoked out of you; and Iwish they could smoke out some of the mischief that’sin you at the same time,” said the adult boatswain.“Come, and bear a hand lively, for all hands are inboats by this time.”
Bill Stout led the way; and on this occasion heneeded no hurrying, for he was in haste to get awayfrom the vessel before the blaze revealed itself. In amoment more he was on the thwart in the secondcutter where he belonged. Bark’s place was in anotherboat, and they separated when they reached the deck.The fire–bill assigned every person on board of thevessel to a place in one of the boats, so that everyprofessor and steward as well as every officer andseaman knew where to go without any orders. It wasthe arrangement for leaving the ship in case of fire; andit had worked with perfect success in the Young Americawhen she was sunk by the collision with the Italiansteamer. As the boats pulled away from the Tritonia,the quarantine people boarded her to perform theduty belonging to them.
Bill Stout endeavored to compose himself, but withlittle success, though the general excitement preventedhis appearance from being noticed. He was not sohardened in crime that he could see the vessel on firewithout being greatly disturbed by the act; and it wasmore than probable that, by this time, he was sorry hehad done it. He did not expect the fire to break outfor some little time; and it had not occurred to himthat the quarantine people would extend their operationto the hold of the vessel.
The boats landed on the beach; and all hands weremarched up to a kind of tent, a short distance from thewater. There were fifty–five of them, and they weredivided into two squads for the fumigating process. r />
“How is this thing to be done?” asked Scott, as hehalted by the side of Raimundo, at the tent.
“I have not the least idea what it is all about,”replied the young Spaniard.
“I suppose we are to take up our quarters in thistent.”
“Not for very long; for all the rest of the squadronhave been operated upon in a couple of hours.”
The health officer now beckoned them to enter thetent. It was of the shape of a one–story house. Thecanvas on the sides and end was tacked down to heavyplanks on the ground, so as to make it as tight as possible.There was only a small door; and, when the firstsquad had entered, it was carefully closed, so that theinterior seemed to be almost air–tight. In the centre ofthe tent was a large tin pan, which contained somechemical ingredient. The health officer then pouredanother ingredient into the pan; and the union of thetwo created quite a tempest, a dense smoke or vaporrising from the vessel, which immediately filled the tent.
“Whew!” whistled Scott, as he inhaled the vapor.“These Spaniards ought to have a patent for getting upa bad smell. This can’t be beat, even by the city ofChicago.”
“I am glad you think my countrymen are good forsomething,” laughed Raimundo.
The students coughed, sneezed, and made all the fussthat was necessary, and a good deal more. The healthofficer laughed at the antics of the party, and dismissedthem in five minutes, cleansed from all taint of smallpoxor yellow fever.
“Where’s your blaze?” asked Bark Lingall, as theywithdrew from the others who had just left the tent.
“Hush up! don’t say a word about it,” whisperedBill; “it hasn’t got a–going yet.”
“But those quarantine folks are on board; and ifthere were any fire there they would have seen itbefore this time,” continued Bark nervously.
“Dry up! not another word! If we are seen talkingtogether the vice will know that we are at the bottomof the matter.”
Bill Stout shook off his companion, and walked aboutwith as much indifference as he could assume. Everyminute or two he glanced at the Tritonia, expecting tosee the flames, or at least the smoke, rising above herdecks. But no flame or smoke appeared, not even thevapor of the disinfectants.
The second squad of the ship’s company were sentinto the tent after the preparations were completed;and in the course of an hour the health officer gave thevice–principal permission to return to his vessel. Theboats were manned; the professors and others tooktheir places, and the bowmen shoved off. Bill beganto wonder where his blaze was, for ample time hadelapsed for the flames to envelop the schooner, if shewas to burn at all. Still there was no sign of fire orsmoke about the beautiful craft. She rested on thewater as lightly and as trimly as ever. Bill could notunderstand it; but he came to the conclusion that thequarantine men had extinguished the flames. Theburning of the vessel did not rest upon his conscience,it is true; but he was not satisfied, as he probablywould not have been if the Tritonia had been destroyed.He felt as though he had attempted to do a big thing,and had failed. He was not quite the hero he intendedto be in the estimation of his fellow–conspirators.
The four boats of the Tritonia came alongside theschooner; and, when the usual order of things had beenfully restored, the signal for sailing appeared on thesteamer. The odor of the chemicals remained in thecabin and steerage for a time; but the circulation ofthe air soon removed it. It was four o’clock in theafternoon; and, in order to enable the students to seewhat they might of the city as the fleet went up to theport, the lessons were not resumed. The fore–topsail,jib, and mainsail were set, the anchor weighed, and theTritonia followed the Prince in charge of a pilot whohad presented himself as soon as the fumigation wascompleted.
“You belong in the cage,” said Marline, walkingup to the two conspirators, as soon as the schoonerbegan to gather headway.
Bill and Bark followed the boatswain to the steerage,and were locked into the brig.
“Here we are again,” said Bark, when Marline hadreturned to the deck. “I did not expect when we left,to come back again.”
“Neither did I; and I don’t understand it,” repliedBill, with a sheepish look. “I certainly fixed thingsright for something different. I lighted the newspaper,and put it under the hay, sawdust, and boxes. I wassure there would be a blaze in fifteen minutes. I can’texplain it; and I am going down to see how it was.”
“Not now: some one will see you,” added Bark.
“No; everybody is looking at the sights. Besides,as the thing has failed, I want to fix things so that noone will suspect any thing if the pile of hay and stuffshould be overhauled.”
Bark made no further objection, and his companionhastened down the ladder. Pulling over the pile ofrubbish, he found the newspaper he had ignited.Only a small portion of it was burned, and it wasevident that the flame had been smothered when theboxes and covers had been thrown on the heap. Nothingbut the newspaper bore the marks of the fire; and,putting this into his pocket, he returned to the brig.
“I shall do better than that next time,” said he,when he had explained to Bark the cause of the failure.
Bill Stout was as full of plans and expedients asever; and, before the anchor went down, he was willingto believe that “the job” could be better done atanother time.